


Time

by yukiscorpio



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-15
Updated: 2005-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29675829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiscorpio/pseuds/yukiscorpio
Summary: Contrary to public belief, Fuji is not a very expressive person.
Relationships: Fuji Shuusuke/Tezuka Kunimitsu
Kudos: 1





	Time

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ on 15 May 2005.

Contrary to public belief, Fuji is not a very expressive person. Unlike Eiji and his loud kouhais, he never did talk much back in Seigaku and when he did say anything, it was usually "ah" and some idle comments. In a sense, Tezuka, the stoic captain, was a lot more expressive than Fuji ever was, even though they both spoke little.

Time has done a lot to Tezuka. Little, yet a lot. He has grown into his own body; the strange boy-man mix of the Seigaku days is no more. The planes of his face have become sharper, the jawline more prominent. That furrow between the brows, which had first found its way to Tezuka's face when he took up captainship to the boys tennis club, has long since disappeared. But those brown eyes are still equally intense, as if saying that he can hold the world in his hands - and he probably does.

Fuji used to like to stand next to Tezuka at every opportunity, and marvel, inside, at what his captain and friend was made of, what he did and ate to have become so tall at their age. Fuji used to wonder if he would ever grow tall enough to be able to look at Tezuka, eye-to-eye, without having to look up. But it never happened. Over the years, Tezuka had gained three more inches, and Fuji more, but never quite catching up with his friend. And looking back, perhaps it is meant to be, that he will forever be looking up to Tezuka Kunimitsu. Always strong, solid, and solitary... well, perhaps not the last.

"I shouldn't have let you pack the shelves."

A smile tugs at the corners of Fuji's lips. He turns around and looks up, from where he is sitting cross-legged on the carpet, to Tezuka. "I just found some photos from ages ago."

Eyes, now behind contact lenses instead of spectacles, shift to look at what Fuji is holding. Photographs of him on the tennis courts, dressed in his Seigaku uniform. Ah. The ones Fuji had taken without him knowing, and didn't find out about until much later, because Fuji does not talk about these things. Fuji is not good at saying out loud the things he wants to mean.

Fuji leans back on his arms and tilts his face up when Tezuka drops down on one knee, and mock pouts when he is kissed on the forehead instead of on the lips.

"At this rate we won't finish packing in time for the movers." Tezuka says, getting up. "Hurry up."

"Yes buchou." Fuji replies, and smiles brighter when Tezuka raises an eyebrow at him. The man does not sigh, or roll his eyes, but places his hand in Fuji's hair and combs it once with his fingers, before exiting the room.

Fuji's gaze settles back on the photographs.

Time has done very little to Tezuka. Over the years, he has grown from boy to man, but he is still the same person Fuji has known. Still the same man who had one day walked up to Fuji, and said very directly, "I like you, Fuji. Go out with me.". Not a request, nor a question. More like an order that Fuji must date him, the same way the boys must run around the courts whenever he yelled "20 laps!"

Yes, still the very same man. Expressive in his own way, and holds Fuji's world in his hands.


End file.
